Since her rise to fame – which began four years ago with Ang Lee’s “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” and blossomed with the more mainstream “Rush Hour 2” a year later – the Hong Kong media have had a field day watching Zhang and picking apart her actions.

“I hate them!” said the 25-year-old actress in a recent interview. “They follow you and take pictures, then say things like, ‘Oh, she didn’t carry her bag.’ It might just be that for two seconds, I just tie my shoe and my assistant holds my bag.”

They have also alleged that she is simply a pretty face who got a lucky break, not a genuinely talented actress.

But there are some scores on which there is no argument – like Zhang’s admitted on-set jealousy of older actress Michelle Yeoh, her “Crouching Tiger” co-star, which reportedly fueled their sword-dueling scenes with a very realistic aggression.

And the fact that famed Chinese director Zhang Yimou, who has directed her in three films including “House of Flying Daggers,” bestowed an interesting nickname upon her: “Little Gong Li,” a reference to Chinese superstar Gong Li, with whom the director had a longtime affair.

The nickname has sparked rumors that the two are romantically linked, although Zhang has denied that allegation.

But unlike many of her American tabloid-staple counterparts, Zhang eschews parties and clubs, and has not yet been embroiled in any embarrassing drunken or nearly-naked escapades.

Not to mention the fact that unlike many of them, her fame has been built upon several truly stunning film roles.

In “Crouching Tiger,” American audiences discovered an actress whose beauty was equaled by her ferocity as a martial arts fighter. Drawing on her childhood training at the Beijing Dance Academy, Zhang turned in a performance that blew the critics away.

In “House of Flying Daggers,” she expands her acting range, playing a blind courtesan and renegade assassin who’s involved in a love triangle.

She says the strong characters she’s played have been personally vindicating.

“For Western women, it’s much easier to be yourself,” she has said. “If you want to do something, you just go and do it. In an Asian context, women are still much more modest and conservative.

“I want, through my roles, to express the parts in the hearts of Chinese women that they feel unable to let out.”

Perhaps not surprisingly, she names groundbreaking singer and actress Bjork as a personal hero.

Zhang – whose name has recently been reversed from its Chinese order, presumably to make her more accessible to American audiences – is currently in L.A. shooting “Chicago” director Rob Marshall’s long-in-development adaptation of “Memoirs of a Geisha,” and working on her English.

She still often uses a translator during interviews – which are guarded and scarce – but some diva-ish glimmers come through: If she likes someone, they can call her Zi.

If not, it’s Miss Zhang.

Either of which will undoubtedly look good splashed all over American newsstands.